All The Way By The Whispers Novels & Stories

“I can’t keep being the battlefield between you.” Ethan’s gaze softened, not in kindness, but in triumph. He leaned just enough to whisper, though the words carried across the space: “You already are.” Her knees buckled. She sank onto the pew, head spinning. The chapel candles flickered, casting long, shifting shadows on the walls. She whispered, almost to herself, “I don’t know who to believe anymore.” For a heartbeat, silence followed.

One girl and one boy, smiles on their faces as they both let the wind sway their swings. An image of a girl with long, red, wavy hair flashed before my eyes and smiled at me, very tender and sweet like it would end my immortality. Then she collapsed into the floor. The vision went black. I couldn't see anything... it was dark... yet there were whispers. "It's her..." "Puoi permetterti di perderla?" "Take her..." "Sarà la tua morte..." I opened my eyes and sat down. My hands were shaking and I was having a hard time catching my breath due to shock. Fucking dream! No. It was a nightmare!

The wolves, once divided by fear and mistrust, now moved as one, their hearts bound by a common purpose, a shared destiny. As I looked out at the peaceful scene, a deep sense of gratitude filled me. We had faced unimaginable challenges, endured unimaginable losses, but we had emerged stronger, wiser, more united than ever before. The whispers of the falls, once a mournful dirge, now whispered a lullaby of peace, a promise of a future where love, compassion, and unity would reign supreme. The whispers of the falls whispered of hope. The whispers of the falls whispered of home.

1391° W Pass through the arch of liquid moonlight, and find the man who carries the stars on his flesh. Tell him you have heard the whispers. Tell him the Darkness is here, with the moon and stars it’s guide. Do not look over your shoulder as you follow him into the night, only ahead. Do not eat or drink anything, and when you meet the Whisperer, no matter how tempting it may be, do not look into his eyes.

My books on his shelves. I picked up the silver bracelet he gave me on our second anniversary. “For my future Luna,” he had whispered. Future. I set the bracelet down carefully. Then I opened the wardrobe and pulled out a suitcase. Lyra stirred anxiously. Are we really leaving? “Yes,” I whispered. Because I refuse to stay where I am only almost chosen. Downstairs, I heard the distant rumble of a car entering the driveway. Rowan was home. For one fragile second, I hesitated.

My lungs could barely pull in air with him so close. I sighed deeply, trying to regain some control, some clarity. But it was useless. Daimon surrounded me from all sides—with his presence, his touch, his voice, his scent. I was sinking into him. It was then that I heard them. The whispers. They came with the wind, like an ancient lament, almost ethereal, wrapping around us. The temperature seemed to drop for a second, but his heat kept me alive. The whispers swirled around us, spinning like an invisible dance, scraping at the senses, and then a single word echoed clearly:

I stepped back as the door turned red. Moving slowly through the hall, step, step, step, step. The ticking started once more. I needed to find my escape. I ran through a door to the right to find myself falling into a field of grass. Whispers of voices being carried with the wind. So many voices all at once, none were discernible. Shadows began appearing along the horizon, and the whispers increased.

“Let it all out… milk every last second. God, I can hear how wet you are… how hard you came for me. You sound like heaven, Sylvia. So fucking beautiful when you fall apart.” “Mmm… Bryan…” I moaned softly, my fingers still moving lazily inside me as the final ripples faded. “I came so hard… my legs are still shaking. I’ve never… never cum like that on the phone before. You made me squirt a little… I’m soaked.”

I whispered. I walked over to the counter, picked up the small bag, and slipped it into my coat pocket. Without wasting another second, I opened the door and walked out, leaving behind the safety of my room—and maybe, a part of myself too. I walked back outside and followed him. We got to Mrs. Yates's room, and I asked him to excuse us. He went outside; I looked at the woman and spat on her face, then injected her and she slept off immediately. After some few minutes, I walked back outside; he looked at me, waiting for an answer, and I gave him an assuring look before making my way upstairs.

The first whisper came softly, almost politely, like someone leaning close and murmuring behind her ear. “They’re here.” Ines froze. The room felt suddenly smaller, the walls pressing inward. She scanned the corners, the ceiling, the floorboards. Nothing moved—but the whisper repeated, more insistent now, dripping with urgency. “They’ve been waiting.” Her hands trembled as she pressed them to her ears, trying to block the sound, but it seeped through anyway, sinking into her bones. The whispers multiplied, weaving themselves into a chorus of voices, each one distinct, each one demanding attention. One was high and brittle, like glass breaking, another low and guttural, vibrating with menace.